Have a drink
A bunch of preachers are having a meeting in the rectory of a Catholic
priest. Just as they're silently tuning up for some heavy orations, the
priest offers all of them a whiskey to ease tensions and get the smell of
religious napalm out of the air.
"Don't mind if I do, thanks," says the Methodist vicar, who slugs down
three fingers of Wild Turkey.
"And you?" asks the priest of the born-again minister.
"What?" the born-again shouts indignantly.
"Drink alcohol? Why, I'd rather debauch in a whorehouse!"
At this the Methodist spits his whisky back into the glass and hollers,
"Whoa! You mean we get a choice?"
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